Beverly Hills, 90210 2010
by sidekick i
Summary: We follow Brenda Walsh, continuing her life after a painful divorce from someone she knew she could never love, and the upbringing of her daughter, Katie. What Brenda doesn't know is that she's not the only one returning to the infamous zip-code.
1. Chapter 01: We Just Can't forget

**Beverly Hills, 90210 | 2010  
**

**CHAPTER 01**

**__****We Can't Just Forget**

It wasn't a life that at that time, I could understand. Dylan had broken up with me. We were separated for eight months before the divorce. I knew my next move, before I made it. It seemed logical in that instant, that the fabulous tragedy of Beverly Hills; _my home _– was the perfect place, and opportunity to just forget it all.

I wanted to forget; I had to. Dylan and I had gone strong for what seemed like a lifetime, and forgetting is just the first scrap of the preferred _anything_, that I needed. If he didn't want me, someone would.

The haunt of being unable to bear children, still lingered over me – but in that consequence, I had been blessed with a gift regardless. Katie was now eight years old, and in first grade. Pulling her out of school wasn't easy. I knew she loved her environment, and silly playmates, but my heart couldn't beat a second further in the same presence of Dylan's web of lies.

Kelly knew; I told her eventually, what I couldn't admit to, the last night of the Bev High play. She sensed a relationship between Dylan and me, but what she neglected, was the breath of marriage.

Dylan still had feelings for Kelly, and the desire to _"live free"_ as an adult – to sort of, re-live those Beverly Hills Glory Days. He was delusional, but I gave him his space. Space, led to more space – then arguments – then neglect – and finally, _divorce_. He wanted a child of his own, and wasn't full-proof on adoption. I guess I should just say he wanted a son. I wanted a little girl that I could dress up, and re-live my own youth through – At least _that_, we agreed upon.

My chocolate minolo's clacked uneven through the airport, as I dodged hurried on-comers and their luggage. Katie clung tight to my leg, never even fathoming the idea of letting go.

"Mommy, how much further?" she whined.

"We're already here." I said, as I bent to scoop her up into my middle-aged arms. "Hold mommies purse."

I handed it to her, as I reached into my pocket for the valet ticket.

"Walsh." I announced, as I handed the ticket over to a strapping twenty-something year old.

"Ah, yes Mrs. Walsh, your Aston Martin is waiting." said the suited cutie, with teeth of pearls.

"Fantastic!" I flashed my own diamond grin. "And it's Miss."

There I was again, breezing through the winds of Beverly Hills. I hadn't been here for the past two years, and Katie just simply had never been. I originally didn't want her to so early-on, be surrounded by all the vanity that was Beverly, but this situation had so quickly become a state of emergency, and Beverly was always around to comfort me one way or another.

"So, this is where you went to school?" Katie asked, curious and sweet.

I laughed. "Yes."

"How long?"

I hesitated, and laughed again. "Half of my life."

"And how about now?"

"Oh no, mommy's too old for school."

She giggled, I winced – some memories were missed – most, still being forgotten. I didn't want my daughter to live through what I did – at least not on that level of intensity. We were crazy as kids, Brandon, Kelly, Steve, Aundria, David, Donna, Dylan, and I. We acted how we wanted, because we could. Most of our parents didn't have much influence at that time, but _mine_ did. I still chose to be outlandish, and slutty at times, but it was high school.

"Wanna help me cram for my history final?" Kelly would ask.

"Sure. Where?"

She'd roll her eyes and laugh. "Where else?"

The Peach Pit was more of a home, _than_ home. We girls spent everyday picking at French fries, and sipping coffees while conjointly studying for each of the crucial _many_ exams.

"I mean seriously, how could you understand this Aundria? My mind is about the project massive amounts of brain goo from my eyes, if I read one more Shakespeare quote!" Kelly complained.

"I concur." Donna slumped into her chair.

"I study." said Aundria, smiling insolently.

Study, she _did_! Aundria was like a human textbook. Any answer you weren't sure of, she would correct you. Sometimes I'd catch myself taking advantage of her mind, but I needed that 'A'. I wasn't poor minded, but had many rough days.

High school was a job within itself - weekly exams, monthly lectures, and plenty of important nothings. But we had to provide, or suffer the failure. My parents wouldn't let me. They were on me like hawks, ever since birth. Jim and Cindy Walsh were saintly parents – they could never do any wrong in my eyes, or the rest of us. They were all of our parents. When one got in trouble, the rest acted in place, and Jim & Cindy were there to lecture. We called it lecture then, but now it's known as _love_.

I curved and gazed through the many memories of the streets of Beverly Hills. The wind blew fierce through my blown hair, and reminded me of the many drives Brandon and I had taken in his first car, Mondale, before I got my drivers license. Brandon worked hard to get that car, and was very proud of it. Days, turned months, Brandon kicked ass at the Peach Pit to earn his deserved buck. It paid off pleasantly, before he drifted into his race track habit. He lost thousands betting away his hard-earned paychecks, on popular race horses, and even once got Aundria involved, but as much as I'm glad, so is he, that he was able to be done with that kind of immature standing.

I stopped, and threw the car in park. My sight became suddenly fixated, on a piece of my past. My desire to re-live a life, that almost once took me, was now imitating past-to-present future. There it stood, polished and stuck in an old era of _my_ Beverly, was the old Walsh House.


	2. Chapter 02: Why I even Left

**CHAPTER 2 | Why I Even Left In The First place**

My eyes almost didn't want to believe it, but I knew it was true - my once-home, still living and breathing my past history. The "For Sale" sign caught my eye, and I almost choked on my own breath.

"What's wrong, mommy?" Katie asked, only half-concerned.

"Nothing sweetie." I said, as I separated her hair from behind her ear.

I knew one day she would know my everythings, and just hoped that she wouldn't judge me. I was a different person back then, and it wasn't what I now aspired to be. I was a tough woman, and an even tougher lover. I loved Dylan with all my heart could love by, but I guess Dylan fell out of the same.

I looked back to the monumental house. Did I dare? Would stepping one foot, again, inside a life that I wanted to partially avoid, be a helpful tactic in my newly appointed cleansing process? I guess I'll just have to figure it out.

I looked back to Katie's innocence, and smirked. "Come on, I wanna show you where mommy used to live."

It looked just the same. The chaos Brandon and Steve had turned it into during College, was no longer with the times. The floor was the same, the stairs were the same; even the light fixtures. It was _still_ home.

"This is your old house?" Katie asked, dragging her Barbie purse along the chestnut tile.

"It sure is."

"May I help you, miss?" asked a surprisingly stiff voice, pondering the air behind me.

I turned to meet the delighted composure, of a highly attractive woman. She wore a stitch-thin Gucci suit, with leather Prada sandals. Her fragrant blonde hair slightly threw off her age, but us forty-something's knew how old each-other were.

"Oh, hi! Sorry to intrude - I'm Brenda, Brenda Walsh. This is my daughter Katie."

"Charmed, Brenda. I see this beautiful stretch of glory attracted your keen eye?" she spewed in a very uptight, _"daaahhling"_ way.

I could see she was a feisty one – I decided to play her game for a while. "Why, yes I presume it has. Aha!" I glamorized, with the wave of a palm.

"Mom, I thought you said…" Katie began.

I immediately bent to take away Katie's purse, and nudged her toward the familiar staircase. "Hunnie, why don't you go and check the bedrooms while mommy talks to this..._nice_ lady."

She needed no further instruction. Any chance Katie got to explore, she took it with great praise and gratitude. I wished I could still be her age, but my invisible wrinkles screamed otherwise.

"So, are you interested in a home?" she asked, staring only at Katie as she ran away into the unknown.

"I am, actually. What are you asking?"

"Let's start off with the bedrooms..." she ignored. "...see if the size accommodates your..._situation_."

She turned her back in time to miss my seisuristic eye-roll. You would have to be blind, deaf, and all other kinds of impaired to not catch the sense that this witch didn't like children.

I followed her to the upstairs that I already knew quite well. She gave her "tour" and I nodded believably interested. I could tell she kept all peripheral view on where Katie's hands went next.

"Ah, and the beautiful connected living quarters over here has a remarkably exquisite bathroom – such class, and elegance." She said, directing me into _my_ old room.

I was awestruck. I couldn't believe my eyes. To me, everything still looked the same, as the rest of the house. The paint was different, the windows were larger, but I could still picture where each inanimate object of mine had been placed.

"This room connects to another. Your..._daughter_, might take liking to that space." she said, seemingly opposed.

"I'll take it." I said, interrupting her tragically rehearsed production.

In under an hour, my old house was mine. I knew I'd bought it when I spotted the 'For Sale'. I only envisioned a better standing within myself and for my daughter – money was no object. If living here _again_, is what I need to help mend over the feeling that builds inside me against a man that I've loved longer than I've loved myself, then that's exactly what I needed to do.

Without a scrap of furniture, and a place to sleep, Katie and I embarked on a short distance to the Beverly Hills Beach Club. I could have rented a hotel, but the Beach Club always treated me better whenever I surprised the town with my unknown notice.

Kelly still lived in Beverly, but I hadn't phoned her of my arrival yet. We didn't leave each other on bad terms, but things just didn't seem right anymore. I love her; she loves me – but it's a different kind of love. We've been through it all – maybe not all together, like I would have preferred, but we still went through it. Kelly's coke addiction while I was away in Paris, almost took something from me that I never imagine I could have gotten over.

Every girl has their body image issues, but the girls of West Bev took 'serious', to a whole new pronunciation. Turn left; turn right; skinny, thin, frail, sick, the randomly healthy, and the dangerously _un_-healthy – it's all a pattern of high school. Sad as it is to admit, high school is the breeding ground for imperfection, and loyal follower of all things celebrity.

To be 'celebrity', is to be _it_, and to _be_ it, you have to _look_ it.

Looks are everything in this town, and if you don't have that in-tune with your top-notch thought, then Hollywood will eat you alive.

The next morning was dead-set on furniture shopping, and paint primer. Katie wanted a pink room; too girly for its own good – and I chose a mahogany brown. Moving in felt surprisingly easy - I thought I'd have some sort of revelation about it, but there was nothing, just a deep sensation of an awe feeling, and the urge to stay here forever. I don't know why I even left in the first place.


End file.
